We real cool. We
Left school. We
Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We
Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We
Jazz June. We
Die soon.
Left school. We
Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We
Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We
Jazz June. We
Die soon.
Gwendolyn Brooks.
This poem reminds me of one of my real best friends (as opposed to my imaginary best friends, alexa and carey, natch). i keep trawling through her tumblr archives in a vain attempt to pretend that she's with me gallivanting around new york and not miles and miles away back in australia. at least i'll get to trawl through thrift stores, cut class and eat mountains of ill-advised wedges with sour cream and sweet chilli sauce with her soon. (and, hey frances, i know you read this, i miss you!)
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